


Unfocused

by Progman



Series: Storming Heaven [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Cameos, Collateral Damage, Daydreaming, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fantasizing, Flashbacks, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Humor, Introspection, Late Night Conversations, Long Walk Alone, Loyalty, Night Terrors, Possible Unrequited Love, Romance, Sexual Humor, inner conflict, normandy crew - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Progman/pseuds/Progman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A suicide mission has a way of making one introspective of their entire existence. As the trip beyond the Omega-4 relay draws near, Shepard is forced to come to terms with her feelings for Garrus, along with everything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfocused

**Author's Note:**

> Mass Effect is owned by Bioware, EA, Elkoss Combine, yadda yadda yadda, who gives a fladoodle.
> 
> The following work was beta'd by the ever talented BSG-Legacy.
> 
> Alastor Cyrillus and Jules Sinclair are original characters, and as such are the intellectual property of myself and AyameFeitom respectively.
> 
> Steal them and I'll cut you. :D

 

Flying several hundred times the speed of light was a sight to behold. Wavelengths previously undetectable to the human eye became visible. X-rays, Gamma rays, UV... Shepard could see it all. And it was beautiful.

 

_Bathed in the light of untold stars, stripped bare of our bonds so that only our flesh remained. Pliant skin against hardened armor. Her hands traveled down his carapace, her fingers dancing and caressing the small gaps in his plates. His talons, long and sharp, pierced the small of her back. She gasped and arched into him---_

 

Shepard caught herself mid-fantasy and cleared her throat, not that anyone could see into her mind’s eye. If they could, she’d be very embarrassed. A piercing pain stabbed into her chest as her ribs tightened around her.

 

_Stop. You came here to think, not to fantasize about the hulking turian just down the hall turning your uniform to ribbons, violently pinning you against the viewport and taking you over and over again for the entire galaxy to see._

 

…

 

_Goddammit._

 

The starboard observation deck was one of her favorite places to watch time itself pass her by. She spent a great deal of her few off-duty hours there, idly conversing with Samara or just watching the Normandy’s FTL wake. In the short time they had known each other, they had developed quite the rapport. Their sense of duty to their causes was similar, but not the same. But it was enough to forge the connection.

 

Shepard was seated on the couch and turned toward Samara. The justicar was shining brilliantly in blue light, as she always did, and Shepard needed a distraction from her thoughts.

 

“...Samara, why do you always gather dark energy when you meditate? That’s got to be exhausting.”

 

Samara nodded in the wake of her biotic glow. “Indeed, though that is the goal. Justicars are trained to unparalleled levels of endurance. One of our earliest trials is to exert ourselves continuously in this position for five days. Those who survive are given a single day to recover, and then are tested twice more. It is a test that we never truly complete, for those accepted into our order are expected to maintain the regimen until their deaths.”

 

Shepard’s eyes widened in respect and inched closer to the asari. “Wow. I don’t think I could do that. Hell, I don’t think I could do one day straight, let alone five.”

 

Samara smiled at the Commander’s humility. “Not many are able, Shepard. There is no shame in that. Our training may seem gruesome and uncompromising, but the mind and body of a justicar must be in absolute harmony. Our biotics are the perfect extension of that motif.”

 

Shepard blinked and silently sat down beside her, crossing her legs in the same manner as the asari. She closed her eyes, and slowed her breathing down to a soft cadence. Each intake of air was quieter than the last until the sound was almost non-existent. Shepard eased the flow of dark energy through her until tiny crackles of blue trailed themselves along her body. “Like this..?”

 

Not since her initial biotics training with the Alliance had she ever channeled her abilities with this much precision. Shepard’s method was more brute force in it’s design, and that was by both necessity and training. They trained her fast, trained her to _be_ fast, and expected her be _faster_. The reversal was...oddly calming and liberating.

 

“Yes. The absolute focus this exercise requires ensures your mind will be sharp. Clear of any doubts or hesitations. You will act without thought, and do what needs to be done when the time comes. That is the purpose of this.” Samara stared straight ahead, her expression stoic.

 

Shepard processed the justicar’s words with ease, and immediately saw merit to the technique. In this state of extreme focus, she would only be able to form the most basic thoughts, which _forced_ her mind to rely solely on her instincts. “I see.” She gently increased the flow and her subtle crackles became a stable glow.

 

_Their bodies submerged in total darkness. She smiled and her form shined brilliantly in blue,_ his _blue. He dipped his head and languidly glided his wiry tongue along her neck and collar. She moaned and grasped at his shoulders to keep herself upright. He wandered down---_

 

Shepard grunted as her misty blue aura diminished from her lack of focus. She clenched her eyes shut and centered herself. After a few soothing breathes, she pushed herself forward, determined to burn away the distracting and _wonderful_ imagery from her mind. She doubled the flow of energy through her nodules and her ghostly form shimmered into a bright flare.

 

Samara took notice of this and watched the Commander intently out of her periphery. “Shepard, do not feel as though you need to match me. I have had nearly a thousand years to perfect this technique. Go at your own pace.”

 

Shepard cleared her throat and kept her concentration and surge stable. “Yeah, okay. Sorry, just...trying to clear my head.” She opened her eyes and tried to lose herself in the deep endless void of space. Harnessed dark energy was meant to be channeled quickly and then released in a timely manner, according to Shepard’s instructors. Holding the energy within herself was an entirely new experience, and was even frowned upon by the so-called professionals that taught her.

 

_I wonder if Kaidan’s ever tried this. Probably not. If he stops being an ass, I’ll show him._

 

“As you should. Facing certain death, and knowing it will occur months beforehand, is a harrowing ordeal.”

 

Shepard frowned and her focus wavered, a stray waft of dark energy jutting out and rattling the bolted down seating beside her. “Really, Samara? Questioning the orders of your direct superior seems like it would be against the code.”

 

Samara hummed in amusement. “I am not questioning your orders, Commander. I am simply expressing empathy in your current situation. I am sworn to you, and I am confident that you will see us through. The woman who bested Saren and Sovereign is not one to be underestimated. The Illusive Man knows this, the Council knows this, and from your one sided discussions with this ‘Harbinger’, I suspect that even the Reapers know you are not to be ignored.”

 

_She unbuttoned her uniform, stripping down to only her undergarments. He looks everywhere but her breasts. She asks why, and he deflects. She pressures, and he claims they are too different. He finds her body unsettling and unnatural. He gags, apologizes, and then he is gone._

 

Shepard stifled back a sob, and suddenly found herself propelled forward onto her stomach. She held out her arms to brace herself, but found that she was frozen in mid-air. “...thank you, Samara.”

 

Samara gently lowered the woman’s body to the floor, and Shepard immediately rolled to her feet. “It was no trouble at all, Shepard. If you are not confident in this endeavor, I would suggest taking a long walk in an unfamiliar location to ease your mind. It has worked wonders for me in the past.” She looked up at Shepard, still firmly sitting cross-legged on the floor of the observation room. “Does your mind feel more clear?”

 

Shepard steeled her expression and-- _Don’t lie to the Justicar!--_ shook her head. “No. It does not.” She strode quickly out of the room, and just before the doors closed behind her, she turned to the asari and smiled weakly. “...thanks.”

 

She entered the elevator and keyed the interface for deck four.

 

_Last things on the docket for today: Upgrading the ship. Have to talk to Tali, Jacob and...Garrus. Handsome devil just_ had _to have the biggest gun, didn’t he?_

 

…

 

_Goddamnit._

 

She sighed and stepped off of the lift once it arrived and turned toward engineering. As she walked through the subdeck stairwell, she heard a few rather loud bangs and crashes. Shepard stopped in her tracks and yelled down the stairwell.

 

“Jack, so help me God if you’re tearing apart my ship down there I’m going to shove you in Grunt’s tank until we hit the relay!” She smirked when she actually _heard_ Grunt laugh loudly at that.

 

Jack called up to her from the sub-deck, laughing as well. “Shit, Shepard! When did _you_ grow big hairy balls? Don’t worry, I’m not ripping up your bulkheads! I was just biotically juggling some of the crates down here and I dropped one! Or four! Not too good at math!”

 

Grunt yelled from his room, a feat that was still impressive. “Shepard’s got a quad, Jack! Have to have one to be a Battlemaster!”

 

“Hear that, Jack? I’ve got a quad. And he’s the _second_ krogan to say I’ve got one.”

 

_Is that really how people see me? A woman who’s so intimidating she has_ testicles? _Great._

 

And then an even _louder_ voice cut through the din of the drive core.

 

“WILL YOU THREE GUDDAMN IDIOTS SHUT THE HELL UP?! I’M TRYING TO CATCH SOME FUCKING SHUT-EYE!” Zaeed screamed from down the hall, his gravely veteran voice filling the entirety of the deck. “Not counting you, Shepard!”

 

Shepard rolled her eyes and took a few steps toward engineering. “Yeah, thanks for respecting the chain of command, Zaeed! Here, I’ll make _sure_ no one disturbs you.” She leaned against the wall and grinned. “EDI. Patch me through to all decks. Open channel.”

 

The intercom chirped in to life. “Done.”

 

“Thanks, EDI.” She cleared her throat. “Attention all hands,this the commander. As of now, I am instigating a new regulation. Zaeed Massani is not to be roused from his nap for any reason. So let’s all be _extra_ quiet so the man can get his beauty sleep, alright? God knows he needs it.”

 

Zaeed laughed loudly and yelled to her. “Alright, alright you’ve made your sodding point, Shepard!”

 

Shepard blinked and instructed EDI to reopen the channel. “Disregard last announcement. Oh, and Miranda? I can _hear_ you scowling. So stop it. And _that’s_ an order.”

 

Jack beckoned from the sub-deck, laughing hysterically. “Starting to like you, Shepard!”

 

The door to engineering opened to reveal a very frustrated Tali, her arms crossed in front of her. “Shepard. Was all of that really necessary?”

 

Shepard laughed and stepped through the doorway. “Nope. Felt good, though.” She rested the small of her back against Tali's engineering panel and crossed her arms over her chest. "Kelly told me you've got some kind of...spinning shield...thing? What is it, exactly?"

 

"Oh, Shepard it's amazing!” Tali clapped her hands together and completely forgot about Shepard’s earlier antics. “It's called a Cyclonic Barrier! It uses an oscillating multi-core projection system to create....”

 

_Grip the back of her shawl, shatter her faceplate into the bulkhead. Mask composed of high-density ballistic polycarbonate. Biotic augmentation of force necessary. Death by exposure._

 

“...a series of interlocking and melding kinetic barriers that, instead of stopping a mass accelerator weapon with a brute-strength application of greater force....”

 

_Okay. That’s not a healthy thought._

 

“...like a conventional barrier, actually diverts the projectile away at a fraction of the energy by rotating the mass effect fields at supersonic velocities on randomized trajectory vectors!"

 

Tali looked like she was ready pop out of her suit by the way she fidgeted. Shepard hadn't seen her this excited since she took her first steps onto the SR-1. Shepard rested her hands on the young quarian's shoulders and spoke in a calming tone.

 

"Tali, alright. I got it. The shields spin really fast, and it smacks away the bullets so that we can win..." Shepard smiled. "Now take a deep breath and relax. You look like you're going to blow a gasket."

 

The quarian tilted her head and outlined the abdomen of her suit with one finger.

"Our suits don't have _gaskets_ , Shepard. That would be horribly inefficient, not to mention dangerous."

 

_Really didn’t need this today..._

 

"Tali, just install the fan-blade shield, ok? And don’t muck up the drive core." Shepard took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just...be careful with that thing, ok? Cerberus likes to cut corners way more than I’m comfortable with." She jabbed a finger in the direction of the hangar bay. "Kodiak doesn't have any damn guns, for instance..." She grumbled.

 

Ken interjected with his trademark Scotsman rapier wit without taking his eyes off of his terminal.

 

"Aye’, they only did that to make 'er a more slender and sensual beast.”

 

_Work before sass. Professionalism at it's finest._

 

“The Normandy is all curve, Commander. I wouldn't have her any other way. And I _definitely_ notice."

 

_Or not. It's a miracle he hasn't been slapped with a few hundred sexual harassment suits by now._

 

Luckily, Gabby was there to slap him on the back of the head for his antics.

 

_Or maybe he has._

 

"I don't think EDI appreciates you ogling her bulkheads, Kenneth!"

 

And of course, EDI spoke up to give her input to the conversation. The four of them looked up at the intercom as it clicked to life.

 

"Engineer Daniels, Engineer Donnelly's extended periods of eye contact on both the Tantalus drive-core, and the bulkhead in front of your workstation have not yet caused my operational performance to degrade by any noticeable degree. In fact, data suggests a notable increase in Engineer Donnelly's productivity after he began to exhibit the behavior in question."

 

If Shepard didn't know EDI was an AI, she would have been positive it was teasing them.

 

"See? I just needed the right motivation, is all." Ken smirked at Gabby. “And it sounds to me like EDI _appreciates_ my ogling of her _ample nacelles_.”

 

Gabby furrowed her brow at Ken and opened her mouth. "Kenneth, if you keep staring at my ass I’m going to paint her _amble nacelles_ with your smug face."

 

Ken's eyes widened in both fear and...Shepard was sure she saw attraction in there somewhere. Her heart swelled and contorted, causing her to stop breathing for a moment. Luckily, no one noticed.

 

"Yes, mum. Sorry Mum."

 

"Tali, keep these two in line for me, will you? I've got to go sort out a few things." Shepard strode out of Engineering, her mind still just as foggy as it was before.

 

"Will do, Shepard." The quarian nodded, and wrung her hands together as she tried to calm herself down.

 

Shepard walked through the sub-deck, thankfully without hearing any more of Jack’s antics and proceeded to the elevator. She pressed the call button and rolled her neck. As her head smoothed back into position, she jerked backward in surprise slightly as she spotted Zaeed right beside her.

 

In a towel.

 

_Of all the people I had to run into half-naked, it had to be Zaeed? Why not Garrus?_

 

“Oh. Hey, Zaeed. Kinda snuck up on me there.”

 

_...at least it wasn’t Grunt. Does he...does he even_ take _showers?_

 

“Did I? Must be the lack of heavy armor. No boots for you to hear.” He shrugged and waited for the elevator along with her.

 

_Gross. Don’t think about it. Just ask EDI later._

 

“So...” She met his eyes with a blank expression.

 

Zaeed scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Zaeed Massani needs to take a guddamn shower like _everyone_ else. What of it?”

 

Shepard snickered and turned back to the elevator. “Nothing, Zaeed. I just...really didn’t expect this.”

 

The grizzled veteran grunted and tracked the length of the wall. “Know what else you’re not expecting? Mutiny.”

 

Shepard furrowed her brow and slowly turned to face Zaeed. “What? I mean, you’re right, I’m not, but...should I be? Honestly, after all the mud I’ve run through for you people, that’s the _last_ thing I’m worried about.”

 

Zaeed shrugged and cocked his head at the elevator as it opened. “Guess you’re right. Wouldn’t make much sense to line the elevator with explosives, then. Too much mess if it goes off prematurely.”

 

The pair entered the elevator and Shepard keyed it for deck three. “From the explosion or from Miranda?” She smirked.

 

Zaeed responded truthfully. “Already thought of that. Caught in the blast.”

 

Shepard chuckled and shook her head. “Any other helpful tips, Zaeed?”

 

“Just one.” The doors opened and Zaeed sprinted toward the men’s room. “Run.”

 

Before Shepard could react, Miranda was already upon her, scowl firmly planted on her features. “Pretty sure I gave you a direct order to stop scowling, XO Lawson. Want me to have you written up for insubordination?”

 

Miranda scoffed, a facade of a smile dropping into place. “I suppose you could. But then, who would write the report?”

 

Shepard strode slowly out of the lift and toward the battery, the Cerberus agent in tow.

“Well, I assumed _you_ would. XO normally handles that kind of thing on an Alliance vessel. Didn’t exactly have time to file them back on the SR-1, so Pressly handled that.”

 

_Wish you were here, Pressly. Lawson doesn’t hold a candle to you._

 

_Except for the whole ‘bringing me back from the dead’ thing. She might have you beat on that front._

 

Miranda shook her head hummed in amusement. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Commander. Conflict of interest.”

 

“Yeah, you would be pretty hard on yourself. Then I’d have to relieve you of duty and replace you with Garrus. Come to think of it, write the report.”

 

_Would be nice to have him_ officially _serving under me._

 

…

 

“GUDDAMNIT! WHO TURNED OFF THE STEAM?!” Zaeed screamed from the men’s bathroom.

 

Miranda sighed, pivoted and began the walk back to the loud mouthed mercenary. “Please don’t abuse the Normandy’s intercom function for your own amusement, Shepard. This isn’t a pleasure cruise.”

 

Shepard gave the woman a sidelong glance before turning her attention back to the door of the battery. “...coulda fooled me with that outfit...” She took a deep breath and tried to force herself in a more genuinely playful mood. With the others, it meant nothing. With Garrus...banter _meant_ something. Her chest bent in on itself and was set ablaze in unrequited fire. She bit her lip and pressed on, burying the pain as deep as she could.

 

Garrus had called up some old contacts in the Hierarchy to get the designs for a gun that shot molten metal at relativistic speeds. That sounded less silly than the cyclonic whatever, if only because the words came out of his mouth and not anyone else's. If he had told her in that sexy flanged voice that he could stop the Reapers just by glaring at them, she would have believed him.

 

Shepard strode into the battery a little more hesitant than normal and settled herself against the back wall nearest the door. "Garrus. Kelly said you had a _giant gun_ you wanted to show me?" She forced a cheeky grin, although she was sure he could tell her heart wasn't in it.

 

"Shepard. Heh, yeah, I do actually. One might say it has a lot of reach.” He blinked. “Uh. I guess.” He stammered through, and all Shepard could do was look away until she re-centered herself. Which didn't happen.

 

_Dammit. I can't do this right now._

 

"I'll...take your word for it. So this gun, the designs for it, must have a lot of...'flexibility'...to fit into a tiny frigate like this... _right_?" She pointed to the floor, but she really hoped that he caught her second meaning.

 

_Please, please,_ please, _don't be dense!_

 

Garrus cleared his throat- _oh thank God-_ and absently tapped the terminal behind him with his clacking gloved talons. "I've been looking it over, and...yeah, it should fit pretty snugly." She winced and he caught himself. "Well, not too snug. Plenty of room to grow, in case we wanted a second one in here.”

 

Shepard gasped at the thinly veiled implication and her eyes bugged out. "What?!"

 

_No, no, no, no, please dear lord don't tell me that's how that works with them!_

 

"What? Oh, no that's...that came out wrong." He looked down at the floor and shook his head. "I..uh..I meant that about the gun..." He motioned behind him and his mandibles fluttered in what Shepard had to guess was a nervous rhythm.

 

"Right. Okay, the gun. Tell me about the gun, Garrus. And _nothing_ else." She shuddered, bit her lower lip and felt the pain in her chest swell.

 

_This conversation is just going_ swimmingly. _Looks like we hit the 'horrible interspecies awkwardness thing' way earlier than I thought. Great._

 

"You got it." He took a few moments to collect himself. "Remember when we were fighting our way up the Citadel Tower, and Sovereign was ripping apart the defense fleet right above us?" Garrus leaned on the main terminal of the battery, his stance and demeanor as casual as ever. Somehow.

 

_Jesus, he recovers quickly._

 

_..._

 

_Goddamnit._

 

"Like I could forget. The damn thing tore through cruisers like a chainsaw through a hanar." Shepard shrugged and shifted her weight back on her left foot.

 

He chuckled, music to her ears on any other day, and his mandibles parted in his distinctive turian smile. "Don't you humans already have a saying for this? What was it...'Like a hot knife through butter?'”

 

"Well, yeah. But then I'd have to explain it to you. 'Chainsaw through a hanar' is something all races can enjoy." She snorted and stamped her last words with a snarky smirk.

 

"Heh. I suppose it is. Anyway, turns out the Hierarchy reverse-engineered the weapon it was using. But now it's blue, and smaller. Should give us an edge against a Collector Ship." He thoughtfully patted the torpedo controls behind him.

 

Shepard made it look like she was genuinely considering the offer, weighing the pros and cons with a few nods of her head, but in reality she had already made up her mind as soon as she entered the room. "Make some calls and get it installed. This ship isn't nearly as turian as it used to be. Fix that."

 

"I'll make it happen, Shepard." He nodded and quickly turned his attention back to the battery interface.

 

She nodded, slid off the back wall and immediately left the battery. "Know you will, Garrus."

Shepard quickly made her way to the elevator, keeping her eyes in self-induced tunnel vision so as not to have any more incidental run-ins with the crew. Along the way, she passed Zaeed and Thane just outside of the men’s room.

 

The drell bowed respectfully. “My apologizes, Zaeed. I was unaware that you detested dry heat so...explicitly.”

 

Zaeed shrugged and slipped back into the bathroom. “Yeah, well, now you do. Comes with being set on fire as often as I have. Just don’t let it happen again.”

 

“It will not. You have my word.”

 

 

Shepard stepped into the lift and keyed it for deck 2. She massaged her temples and sighed.

 

_Gonna be a long day._

 

Shepard slinked silently out of the elevator, bypassing Kelly completely, and entered the armory with a military posture that would put most Admirals to shame. She couldn't make heads or tails of anything in her life right now, so she had to fall back on her instincts until she sorted her personal life out.

 

Jacob spun around and stood at attention, bestowing upon her a crisp salute. "Commander."

Shepard returned the gesture and jutted her head forward, her expression stoic as a rock. "At ease, Taylor. Kelly told me you can get us some new asari armor plating for the hull. How'd you manage that, anyway?”

 

He chuckled with a hint of pride and shrugged. "...that's one hell of a story, Shepard. Back when I was still a Corsair, my team was tasked to take down some asari extremists in the terminus. They called themselves the ‘Daughters of Athame’. Real focused on religion and ‘asari superiority’.” He shook his head. “Crazy bunch. Nothing against organized religion, but fanatics are where I draw the line, Commander. So anyway...”

 

_I could end him. Right now. It wouldn’t be hard. Just a flick of my wrist and his neck would be snapped. Miranda would be more difficult, her barriers are too strong for that to work. If I cornered her and gave Garrus time to line up a shot---_

 

_Oh. I’m fantasizing about slaughtering my crew again. Great._

 

_Maybe if I’m lucky the Collectors will do it for me. And if I’m luckier I’ll stop trying to kill my friends._

 

Shepard glazed her expression and cut the man off before he could continue, as she felt that spending any more time in the room with him was going to lead to more murder plots. He was a decent man, but Shepard just couldn’t handle being with _people_ right now.

 

“Actually, Taylor. That’s none my of business. Purchase the necessary materials and labor and charge it to the expense account. That will be all.”

 

She spun around and began to quickly walk out of the armory, her chest tightening in agonizing knots as she did so.

 

"Shepard-"

 

She looked over her shoulder at him with a commanding glare so intense that it spelled out 'Keep talking and I'll be the last thing you ever see' to any who saw it.

 

"None. Of my. Business. Buy the armor. Get it installed. That's an _order_. Are we clear, Taylor?" She enunciated each word like it was a carnage round to the head.

 

The man saluted and straightened his spine like a metal pole. "Crystal, Commander."

 

As soon as Shepard left the armory, she proceeded over to her private terminal to check her messages in the vain hope that it would help clear her head.

 

It did not.

 

_Spam, delete. Spam, delete. SPECTRE Armory?! Oh, no, spam. Delete. Never gonna get that HMWSG X back..._

 

"Shepard, do you have a moment?"

 

Shepard turned to see the young, redheaded yeoman smile at her. She nodded and approached her on the other side of the galaxy map.

 

"Sure, Kelly. What's up?"

 

_I swear to God, if you tell me that Joker's dad needs me to co-sign a lease I am going to_ scream _._

 

"Well, I just thought you should know..." She lowered her voice into a giddy whisper and obviously looked around for eavesdroppers.

 

_Smooth, Kelly._

 

"...that I think I figured out how Jacob was able to track down that new armor plating. You see, a few years ago-"

 

Shepard's mind went into panic mode and a red blaring clarion sounded off inside of her own head. She steeled her jaw and cut off the yeoman's line of thought like a freight train through an orphanage.

 

_Snap her neck, no biotics. Sprint to the right, disabling strikes to crewmen, follow up with wide-area shockwaves up to the bridge. Close distance to pilot with biotic charge, trauma and---_

 

_Ok, this is starting to become a problem._

 

"Yeoman Kelly Chambers. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this conversation short, as I have business to attend to in my cabin.” Her expression turned into a warning glare and Kelly’s trademark smiled dissolved.

 

Shepard stomped into the elevator without waiting for Kelly to respond verbally and banged her head against the wall of the vacant elevator as soon as it closed. She roared in distress and slammed her fists against the metal bulkhead next to her head.

 

It was one thing for the crew to _hear_ the stress getting to her, but it was an entirely different and dangerous animal for them to _see_ her crack under the pressure.

 

_What would Anderson say if he saw you hiding in an elevator? Probably something fatherly and helpful, like “Shepard, I’ve seen you come back from hell itself more times than I can count. If your personal life is the biggest problem you have right now, consider yourself lucky.”_

 

_...that really doesn’t work if he’s not around to say it._

 

Her teeth ground against each other and after a few moments she took a deep breath and relaxed enough to lower her voice. "Goddammit Garrus..." She turned around and slid her back down to the floor with an exasperated sigh. "...I just had to fall in love with you, didn't I?"

 

“For what it’s worth, I think you two would make a great couple. You should go for it!” The master thief decloaked in front of her, a wide smile on her face.

 

Shepard glared at the other woman, having still not gotten used to her strange sense of privacy.

 

_Or lack thereof._

 

“Kasumi. How long have you been in this elevator?”

 

Kasumi spun around and leaned against the wall beside her. “I saw Zaeed in the towel. He’s very well built for his age, but...ugh, he does _not_ have a cute butt. Not at all like---”

 

Shepard grunted and slammed her fist against the wall to stop her short. “JACOB! Yes, Kasumi I remember that you have a thing for Jacob! Will you _please_ just give it a rest?”

 

Kasumi tilted her head and chortled. “...you know me so well, Shep. I’m starting to think I’m losing my edge at keeping secrets.”

 

Shepard snapped up to her full height and brought her furious glare to bare on Kasumi’s soft and joyful features. She furrowed her brow and her body glowed faintly with threatening dark energy.

 

_Cloak is a problem. Area of effect most likely necessary. Attempt crippling blow to neck or head, otherwise point-blank Nova to cause trauma. Follow-up with curb stomp or low-energy warp field._

 

_Oh my God, what is_ wrong _with me?!_

 

Kasumi’s smile grew even wider and she offered the commander a mock-salute, only her middle and index fingers, and she crackled out of existence, her cloak flowing around and consuming her. “Lips are sealed! Good luck!”

 

The elevator opened behind her, and Shepard slowly stepped out into her cabin. She spun around and shoved her omni-tool at the doorway, sealing it shut. The green hologram turned red with a satisfying click.

 

Shepard’s posture collapsed, the realization that she was effectively alone hitting her all at once. She trudged over to her bed and sat at the edge. Her fingers deftly undid her boots, and she kicked them off absentmindedly. The rest of her uniform quickly followed suit.

 

She clumped up the spent clothing and dumped it in the laundry chute in the bathroom. Shepard caught herself in the mirror as she began to return to her bed and frowned. She leaned over the vanity and inspected herself carefully. All lean and ropy muscle, a soldier’s body, but completely barren of scars.

 

_That still doesn’t look right._

 

The old ones she had gotten from missions long past, but not forgotten, from her _first_ life, had vanished. At first, when she had ‘woken up’, her mask was covered in an eery red cybernetic glow...that no one told her about until she actually saw herself in the mirror. After a frantic visit to Chakwas, and a few days of mineral scanning, her face was as good as new. Literally. Although it only helped cosmetically, since the surgery made her face feel foreign and wrong.

 

_That still doesn’t_ feel _right._

 

She winced and turned away from her reflection and the haunting reminder that her flesh was not her own. Shepard slipped into the shower and smacked the interface to activate the water. It was scalding, and her skin flushed red from the heat. She sat down in the tiny stall and brought her legs to her chest.

 

_What am I even doing? If we start something, he’ll get distracted. I’ll get distracted. We won’t be able to put our duties first. Even if it’s just physical. It would be best if I just lied through my teeth and told him I changed my mind, that I_ don’t _love him, and that we_ are _crazy for even thinking it._

 

Her heart seized up and Shepard cursed through her teeth at the sudden slice of pain in her chest.

 

_And regret it for as long as I have left to live. Which might not be that much but...still. If we_ do _survive and I called it off...I don’t even want to think about that. No. Push it down. Ignore it. Bottle it up until after the mission is over. You’ve done this before, you can do it again. A little crush isn’t going to destroy you. If it_ were _a little crush, that is._

 

She looked down at the folds between her thighs and sighed wearily.

 

_God. Humans are gross. All our flabby skin and visible bones and muscles. And all this hair. Dead tissue. Disgusting. No wonder the Collectors want us. Trying to save the rest of the galaxy from our hideous bodies._

 

After she felt she had wallowed enough, Shepard shut off the shower and dried herself off. She absently walked over to the foot of her bed and slinked her legs atop it. Shepard moved to the center of the mattress, crossed her legs in the same pose Samara had taught her earlier, and took a deep cleansing breath.

 

Instead of a gently building pace, Shepard surged a current through her implant and erupted into a brilliant blue of concentration and focus. She slowly closed her eyes and attempted to clear her head of any doubts or nagging worries.

 

_Have I done enough? Are we_ ready _for this? Am I?_

 

She set her jaw and pushed forward, adding more dark energy to her growing stockpile. If she had to exert herself to the point of total exhaustion to clear her head, she would.

 

_He doesn’t love you. You’re his CO, and he respects you. He’s doing it to for the mission. That’s it._

 

Shepard bit her lip and surged forth with more strength, her bare form shining brighter still. She clenched her eyes shut and began taking deeper breaths.

 

_The tabloids would rip apart your life like vorcha if this got out. The Alliance would bring you in and shove you under the rug to save their hides. No matter how good this is for_ you, _it’s terrible for the Galaxy. The Alliance_ and _the Hierarchy._

 

She winced and the her entire body began to burn from the strain she was inflicting on it. Still, she willed herself to gather more power, and her blue flare became blinding.

 

_He deserves better than a dead woman who isn’t even his own species._

 

Shepard gasped and released her held energy, the erratic and forceful wisps of dark energy quickly dissipating and vanishing around her. She collapsed backward in a silent whimper, mind and body in searing agony, and tenderly slipped herself under the covers.

 

EDI, the ever watchful guardian, dimmed the lights of her cabin to almost nothing.

 

Shepard quickly drifted off to sleep, hoping that she would find a little bit of peace before she woke.

 

She did not.

 

-/o\\-

 

The cool, blue light of the Cerberus-issued aquarium illuminated Shepard’s otherwise sparse cabin. She was tucked tightly beneath the covers and thrashing desperately in a cold sweat. Her hands sought purchase against something, _anything,_ that could ground her body and traumatized mind. But there was nothing to grasp, nothing to latch onto and hold for dear life. She writhed and shrieked in distress as her night terrors consumed her entirely.

 

Shepard’s body erupted in a biotic glow, and each jerking motion of her muscles inadvertently activated a separate physical mnemonic. Her clock was sent flying across the room and shattered against the wall of her cabin door. An aimless warp field tore apart half of her couch at a molecular level and her barrier exploded, sending her pillows and nightstand flying haphazardly around the room.

 

The door to her cabin slid open and Chakwas stormed into the small apartment, small medical bag in hand. She ignited the lights and bathed the room with bright yellow and white. The aquarium behind her began to bend on into itself and the woman quickly moved over to the bed of her distressed commander.

 

“Commander, can you hear me?” No response.

 

She took one look at Shepard and quickly planted herself on the edge of her mattress, carefully avoiding every terror-induced flail and strike at the air around her. The fish tank shattered from overstress, and the contents poured out onto the once pristine floor of the cabin.

 

“Commander, wake up.” She sighed and adorned her most effective ‘den mother’ expression. ”Shepard if you don’t wake up this _instant_ I’ll declare you unfit for duty and inform Ms. Lawson that she is to relieve you of command of the _Normandy_!”

 

Shepard awoke with a frightful yelp and looked around frantically, genuine terror in her eyes.

“No!” She screamed in response to the medical officers manipulative comment, despite her conscious mind not having any awareness of it.

 

“I thought as much. Jeff would be more than unhappy if he had to take his orders from her.” Chakwas folded her arms in her lap and looked expectantly at Shepard.

 

Shepard took a few moments to process her surroundings, the damage to her room and the doctor sitting over her. She forced her breathing to slow and clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking.

 

“Doctor...what...” She shook her head and wiped her sweaty palms on her sheets. “What...what time is it, and who let a varren loose in my room?” She groaned and sat up against her headboard, rubbing her bloodshot eyes with her hands.

 

EDI piped up over the intercom, as always. “Commander, the current time is 0421 Citadel Standard Time. The Normandy is currently in it’s ‘night cycle’ and is approximately three standard hours away from our predetermined arrival on Illium.”

 

Chakwas craned her neck toward the source of the voice and smiled honestly. “Thank you, EDI. Give the Commander and I some privacy, won’t you? That will be all.”

 

“Of course, Doctor. Logging you out.” EDI’s commlink shut off with an audible click and Chakwas turned her concerned gaze back to Shepard.

 

“Shepard, as pleased as I am that your sense of humor survived the night, I am afraid you gave EDI and I quite the scare.” She dutifully activated her omni-tool and swiped it over the commander’s flop sweated form. The aerogel display presented her with medical data and the doctor’s swift eyes perused the information at a frightening pace. “And any damage to your cabin was, unfortunately, your own doing. You nearly emptied an aquarium on me, Commander. Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.”

 

Shepard glanced around the room with renewed attention to detail and her eyes widened in shock. “I...I did this? But...I was running and...there was light...” She shook her head and cradled her head in her hands. “...who else knows...?”

 

Chakwas shook her head and spoke in a low whisper. “No one but EDI and myself. The sound of your screaming was dampened entirely by the several layers of bulkhead and hull between you and the other decks, Commander. I would not have known there was anything wrong if EDI had not informed me as such.”

 

Shepard made a mental note to thank EDI for her discretion at a later date. “I was...I was _screaming?_ Then how...” She stared blankly at the destroyed aquarium and the few fish that were still flopping around for dear life.

 

“I’m getting to that, Commander.” Chakwas highlighted a portion of her medical read-out and expanded the screen to the full size of the interface. “Your implant’s metabolic scans, of which are all recorded and sent directly to myself, show an increase in rapid eye movement...”

 

_Deja vu._

 

“...I don’t think I need to remind you of what that means, and your glucocorticoids reached a level of stress higher than the body can physically endure. You’ve done the impossible yet again, Commander. She smiled darkly. “You’ve become the most stressful human being in recorded history.”

 

Shepard stared unamused at the doctor. “Of course I did. I have to be best at _everything_ **.”** She rolled her eyes and set her gaze on the wild covers with a frown. “...I was using my biotics in my sleep again, wasn’t I?” Chakwas simply nodded, and Shepard proceeded to groan pitifully and rubbed her forehead with her palms. “Damnit, I thought I was past this! All of this! Last psych-eval I took said I was _fine._ A ‘perfectly well-adjusted human being, and a model soldier’.”

 

Chakwas sighed wearily and swiped her fingers along the interface of her omni-tool until it displayed the document in question. “Shepard, would you read the date aloud?”

 

Shepard narrowed her eyes at the display and read the date out loud. “October 10th, 2183---Oh, hell! I died a week later!” She rolled her head and gritted her teeth.

 

“Yes. For all intents and purposes, you did. But you’re alive now, that much I know to be true. Cerberus rebuilt you, _how_ is irrelevant, but Commander...” She frowned and rested her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “...Shepard...the body may heal, but the mind...is not always so resilient. Our perception of reality is very fragile as it is, and undergoing the sort of trauma that you have would destroy the mind of a lesser woman.”

 

Shepard grinned and her eyes flashed with snark. “Flattery will get you nowhere, doctor.”

 

Chakwas laughed and shook her head. “Now _there’s_ the Commander Shepard I know! Fearless and powerful! But in all honesty, you need to deal with this, Shepard. You need closure.”

 

Shepard gave the doctor a small, tired smile. “I had closure, Doctor. Then I died. Coming back from the dead...it’s hard to accept. To, ironically, live with. You don’t just spring back from something like that...”

 

 

Chakwas frowned and ran her fingers through Shepard’s hair like only a loving mother could. The aging doctor would never admit it, and Shepard would certainly never acknowledge it, but that is what they were to each other. Surrogates for what one had lost, and what another never had.

 

“Have you spoken to Yeoman Chambers about this?”

 

Shepard shook her head in protest. “She’s Cerberus, Doctor. And I don’t want them picking my brain anymore than they already have. I just need to...power through this. Just...” She blanked her expression and swallowed. “...suck it up, and deal with it. Like always.”

 

The doctor took a deep breath and met eyes with the Commander. “...as your primary physician, it is my sworn duty to advise you against that. If your normal methods of coping with stress aren’t working, you’re going to need to find another way to blow off steam, whatever that may be.”

 

_Were it so easy._

 

Shepard chewed her lower lip and sat up in her bed. “I...did, actually. Kind of. But I haven’t had any time to figure it all out. It’s just been one mission after the other, getting everyone squared away for certain death...”

 

Chakwas’s eyes dawned in understanding and smiled. “Are you worried that Garrus is going to hurt you? That he won’t find your form attractive? That you won’t find _his_ attractive?”

 

Shepard gaped and crossed her legs unconsciously. “How did you---?”

 

“Mordin.” Chakwas replied as if it were nothing.

 

“Of _course_. Why do I even ask?” Shepard took a deep breath and held her sides. “I’m giving it my all here, and...I don’t think it’s really asking for much that we _can_ make this work.” Her voice hitched and her eyes began to swell. “It’s not like I ask for much in the first place. I’m just so terrified that’ll he see me, all laid out in front of him, and he’ll just...run.” She fervently rubbed her cheeks. “Damnit, Karin! He’s all I have left. He’s all I have left, and I have no damn clue if I am even _biologically capable_ of making him happy.”

 

_Let it out. You’ve been holding this in for far too long._

 

She set her jaw and forcibly stifled back her tears with a choked sob. “And I hate to admit it, but...if I can’t, and he backs out...I don’t know if I’m going to _want_ to come back from this. Even if I somehow manage to, what would the point even be?” She shrugged in defeat. “Not that it matters. Guess I can worry about that _after_ the mission. I’ve got to see this through. Or die trying.” She stared blankly at the back wall. “Doctor. I have no idea if I can do this.”

 

Chakwas quickly wrapped her arms around her in a supportive and tight embrace. “Yes. You can. I’m absolutely sure of it.”

 

Shepard’s arms remained at her sides and she growled in protest. “How? How can you possibly know that?”

 

The doctor simply smiled and held her tighter. “Because _no one_ dies twice, Commander. Not even you.” Shepard stared blankly at the wall for a moment before breaking out into laughter and returning the other woman’s warm hug.

 

“...thank you, Karin. I needed that. Still have no idea how I’m going to pull this off, though...”

 

The doctor patted her on the back and released her from her iron-clad grip. “I’m not worried. You have a tendency to do the impossible.”

 

Shepard smiled weakly and rubbed the back of her head. “I...meant about Garrus.”

 

Chakwas rose up out of the bed and smiled back. “I know. But my answer still holds true for both ‘suicide missions’. Now please, try and get some sleep. A few hours bed rest will do you wonders.” And with that, the good doctor gathered her supplies and promptly left the cabin, leaving Shepard alone with her thoughts.

 

She corrected her bed sheets and covers and settled herself under them rather quickly. This was routine, and routine was just what she needed. In a few hours they were going to land on Illium, and then it was a straight shot to acquire the Reaper IFF. And then...she didn’t know. No one did.

 

_I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Shouldn’t be too long of a wait._

 

She rolled out of her bed and absently sped through her morning routine. Shower, dress, write reports, asses the status of the mission, peruse the news feeds for anything noteworthy etc etc.

 

Her mouth and body revolted against her forceful repetition, and demanded action. She queued up the ship-wide intercom. “Attention all hands. This is the commander. I am hereby assigning the next forty-eight hours to be mandatory shore leave. We’re going to be making the jump beyond the relay soon, and I need you all at your best. Shepard out.”

 

Shepard sat back in her office chair and blinked. It took her a few moments to register what she just did.

 

_Oh. Well, might as well capitalize on this. Long walk should do me some good. Long walk_ alone _._

 

She needed to clear her head and figure this all out, and having a tag-along posse was just going to make it more difficult. Shepard quickly changed into her civvies and slipped a collapsed Carnifex into her concealed inner thigh holster along the way.

 

_Better safe than sorry. If an M-6 to the head doesn’t do the trick, a warp to the face sure will._

 

She took the elevator down to the CIC and walked briskly toward the airlock. But before she could leave the ship, Joker spun his leather chair around and made himself known.

 

"Hey, so, Commander, I've been thinking about how you called 'mandatory shore leave' for the whole crew. Would you mind if I, y'know, didn't do that?"

 

Shepard stopped in her tracks and turned back towards Joker. Her brow furrowed curiously.

 

"What, don't want some R&R, Joker? I'll bet you could find some nice young asari to take your mind off the mission for a few hours." She smirked, and was eternally thankful that talking with Joker was _always_ easy.

 

He rolled his eyes and snickered. "Yeah. Literally. No, it's not that, Commander. I just thought that you might want someone to...you know..." He tugged at the brim of his hat and less than subtly jerked his head toward EDI's projector.

 

"...know what?" Shepard raised a brow and became very confused.

 

"...to make sure our resident AI doesn't take the ship and fly off into the sunset? And by sunset, I mean into the sun. Which around here is known as..." He spun around in his chair to check the local star charts, and then rotated back. "Tasale. Probably butchered the pronunciation--”

 

“Probably.”

 

“--but my point still stands!”

 

EDI's hologram shimmered to life beside him. “I do not plan on ‘flying off into the sunset’ while we are docked in Nos Astra, Shepard. Nor am I capable of such a feat. My blue box is not physically interfaced with any of the _Normandy’s_ flight control systems.”

 

Joker gave the projection a sidelong glance before shifting his eyes back to Shepard. "Well, yeah, she says that _now..._ "

 

Shepard grinned wryly and took a few steps toward the helmsman. " _She?_ So, you two are _already_ on anthropomorphic terms, then?"

 

Joker pouted and crossed his arms. "No...maybe. Look, can I just stay with the ship, Commander? It's not like I could break anything that wasn't _me_."

 

She held out her hand to placate him. "It's fine, Joker. That order was mostly for the _newer-"_

 

"Cerberus."

 

"-members of the crew, anyway. So, yes. Them. Do what you want. I trust you." She smiled and walked out of the airlock and into the afternoon light of Nos Astra.

 

Joker sighed and slumped back into his chair as it spun back around. "...I get her killed, and she still trusts me." He snapped his wrists at the air flippantly. "And they say _I’m_ the crazy one... _"_

 

-/o\\-

 

_This is what I need. A good, long walk to clear my head. Just me and my thoughts._

 

The more Shepard walked, the more she couldn't stop thinking about how everything came down to her. Skyscraper after skyscraper passed by her in a blue haze of indifference. Her first instinct was to get as far away from the Normandy as possible, so that's exactly what she did. And she wasn't going to come back until she was damn well ready to.

 

She was the key to this mission, she knew that, but she had never considered that she could _ever_ be responsible for it's undoing, even if it was a 'Cerberus' operation.

 

_Like hell it is. That went out the window the second I picked up Garrus._

 

_..._

 

_Wish he'd pick_ me _up._

 

Her team was ready, that much was clear.

 

Any hold-ups, unfinished business and regrets had all been taken care of.

 

But Shepard wasn't ready. Not yet. Not again.

 

Sidonis was dead, Maelon was dead, Jacob's dad was dead, Morinth was dead, Niket was _really_ dead, Aresh was dead, Hock was _definitely_ dead, Tali’s dad was dead, Joram Talid was dead, Vido was _very_ dead, and Grunt had made many, _many_ things dead.

 

The ever-tightening knot in her chest stabbed pain into her core. Still, she walked.

 

_Just one foot in front of the other. Come on, walking is easy! Love is hard._

 

_So damn hard._

 

For the past few weeks she hadn't able to focus on the mission. She was getting sloppy. Missing shots she should have landed, her biotics weren't hitting as hard as usual, she was sleeping less, and her usual nightmares of asphyxiation were replaced by the far more painful loop of Mindoir, Akuze, Virmire and the theoretical trip beyond the Omega-4 Relay.

 

_And now we can add night terrors to the list. Perfect._

 

For all her work in getting everyone else dedicated to a suicide mission, she completely forgot to ready herself for what might very well be her final journey.

 

Again.

 

She had lost everything twice before, nearly a third, and now she was heading feet first into hell for the fourth time.

 

_With all due respect, galaxy, and I mean with_ all due respect _: Kiss my ass._

 

_Or better yet, get Garrus to do it!_

 

_..._

 

_Please?_

 

Ash had been spot on about that, because nobody got promoted for that whole stint with Saren. Somehow. She was tad xenophobic, yes, but still a good friend despite it all. Sending your friends to die was something every officer endured, but damn if the pain didn't remind her that she still had a soul. That she was still _her,_ and not some Cerberus VI programmed to think it was Commander Shepard.

 

Well, that and the prothean beacon vision that was still burned into her head. And the Cipher. Now way Cerberus could fake _that._

 

It wasn't a choice she regretted, not exactly. She grieved, but leaving Ash behind made the most tactical sense. She was a damn good marine, that much was true, but she wasn't one of the most powerful, if not most, biotics the Alliance had in their ranks.

 

Kaidan was just too valuable of a resource to 'waste' on something like 'going down with the ship'. And there was no way in hell she'd ever tell him that, even if he had been nothing but the picture of a gentleman on Horizon.

 

Which he wasn't. At all.

 

Shepard hated herself on some level for being able to deduce lives into ruthless calculus like that so easily, even though she knew that a war against the Reapers, even just their puppets, had to

be won at all costs.

 

_At all costs. Maybe if I repeat it in my head enough, it'll make sacrificing others easier._

 

_At all costs. At_ all _costs. At all_ costs. At _all costs._ At all costs.

 

_Nope. Still hurts._

 

Ash had been one of the few on the SR-1 who truly agreed with that sentiment, and she wasn't even an officer. It was a very turian outlook, as Garrus had once told her. If only he had been bold enough to claim Williams 'would have made a very good turian' back then. She'd have paid through the nose to see her reaction.

 

It was all kinds of cruel irony, the more she thought about her. One of her fondest memories of the late Gunnery Chief was her off-the-cuff remark about 'kissing turians'. At that point in her career, she couldn't think of anything more ridiculous than doing that with one of those dinosaur-kitty-birds, and of course only Councilor Sparatus came to mind whenever she tried to visualize it.

 

Back then, at least.

 

Before that whole I-died-but-not-really-who-gives-a-crap-I'm-not-space-jesus Cerberus debacle.

 

Now it was Garrus who always came to mind. Garrus with his stupid piercing blue eyes and flanged voice that made her legs turn to jelly when he said her name. She didn't realize she had any feelings for him that transcended their friendship until he boasted about bedding that _whore_ of a recon scout.

 

The epiphany had hit her like a few hundred charging krogan in the form of wanting to vomit and curl up into a ball and weep for several hours in her cabin. The mere thought of Garrus being with someone else, even if it was in the past, felt so incomprehensibly _wrong_ to her that it sent her mind reeling in jealous hysteria.

 

_That_ whore! _I'm going to find her, rip off those stupid mandibles, core her eyes out with them, repaint her face with her own blood,_ and mine, _and then finally slam my fist straight through her chest-Woah! Where did_ that _come from?_

 

_Okay, slow down, Shepard. The only thing you know about this woman is that she slept with Garrus, so there's no reason to imagine in vivid detail_ exactly _what Commander Shepard does to the people that take what is_ hers.

 

_Wait, what?_

 

_Oh. Oh, oh oh my_ God _I'm in love with him. Crap._

 

_Crap Crap Crap Crap Crap._

 

_SHIT!_

 

_What do I do? I don't know what to do with...this. The hell do I do?! Do I tell him? No! That's coming on way too strong. Dammit, what if he likes strong woman?! No, he's...no he'd never-you're a human. He's a turian, this...it doesn't happen. No, you don't love him. It's just nerves. Calm down and-_

 

_Nope. Nope, definitely in love with him._

 

_I'm starry-eyed, head over heels, light-headed, butterflies in the stomach, over the moon, heart-wrenchingly, desperately, perfectly_ _in_ love _with Garrus Vakarian._

 

How she managed to sputter out that horrendous attempt at flirting instead of turning tail and sprinting straight out of the main battery is anyone's guess. But to her complete bafflement, not only was he just as awkward as she was, but he seemed to like the idea well enough. She hoped it was more than 'blowing off steam', and before all that became a factor she had to worry about how in the hell they were going to pull this off.

 

And that whole thing with the Collectors and the suicide mission beyond the Omega-4 Relay.

 

She turned her walk into a jog, and before long the jog became a run, and the run became a sprint.

 

Shepard just needed to _move_.

 

An hour intoher run, she briefly considered upping her intensity by switching out her run with a series of sequenced of biotic charges. She knew for a fact that she could still push her body to complete exhaustion from extraneous use of her biotics, but she didn’t feel like the Nos Astra Police Force would be to keen on her snapping around their city at transonic speeds...without a permit, of course.

 

_Next time I’m this close to an emotional breakdown, I’m going to have Joker fly me to some barren planet and just tear the place apart until my body turns to rubber. Maybe Garrus could come along too, and he could do some tearing of his own._

 

_..._

 

_Godammit._

 

Instead of being disgusted by the fantasy of smashing her lips against Garrus’s plated mouth, as she was sure Ash was two years ago, she found herself lying awake at night praying that they were physically capable of kissing in the first place.

 

Did turians kiss one another? Did they do something different? She was terrified that one of the most simple and basic aspects of human intimacy would be impossible for him, and their whole possible whatever-it-was that she so desperately wanted- no, _needed_ -would fall apart before it even began.

 

After a few hours of running, she sat down in the nearest seat she could find and caught her breath. A park bench, or rather the Nos Astra equivalent, did the job just fine. Shepard was barely sweating at all, thanks to her new Cerberus implants. It made a lot of things easier in her life, but also so many other things nearly impossible.

 

Exercising to relieve stress was nigh impossible for her with what little free time she had. Bare minimum, she needed six hours of full physical exertion to even feel _tired_ , let alone pass out from exhaustion. Samara’s technique, while effective, was incredibly dangerous. Regular exercise didn’t carry the risk of vaporizing furniture. Her tolerance for alcohol had nearly tripled since they made her metabolism more efficient, so now simply getting _tipsy_ took so long that by the time she was even feeling a buzz, everyone else was already mentally _gone_.

 

Apparently, her 'short walk to clear my head' turned into a several kilometer long jaunt through...wherever she was. It was certainly one of the more posh areas of the city, which was saying something.

 

She brought up her right forearm and willed her omni-tool to life. The orange display crackled to life and she ran her Alliance Standard NAV-LOC program. She flicked a few windows away to give her a better view of the main display.

 

_A few ‘Misuse of Military Hardware’ charges aren’t going to matter once they bring me in for ‘Treason’ and ‘Associating with Terrorists’._

 

She blinked.

 

_Wow, not sure how_ that _was supposed to be comforting._

 

After a few moments, the interface told her she was in the 'Dilura District', which was known for it's 'breathtaking architecture' and 'prospering vacation resorts'.

 

She scoffed at that. Shepard had been out here for a while, and not once had her breath been taken away by a building. She figured one needed an artistic eye for those kind of things. Still, they weren't terrible to look at it. Some were clearly of asari design, all swoops and no angles, while others were of turian, salarian or human creation.

 

The skyscrapers were arranged in a sort of semi-circle around the open park Shepard was sitting in. A few oddly colored trees were littered about, and the area seemed to be just teeming with couples of all shapes and sizes. Two asari holding hands, two turians doing the same (well, that answered one question) and even a few inter-species couples scattered about, not that asari and turians had anything to fear by being together. There were other kinds of pairings, too, but Shepard really didn't care about the societal implications of an asari canoodling with a hanar.

 

Being dead for two years had it's benefits. Namely that few people remember your face, especially when said face was actually a composite developed by the Alliance. She made a mental note to write a very frustrated letter to Anderson about that.

 

She frowned and let loose a pained sigh. The asari didn't seem to have a problem getting with turians. Hell, there was even an asari with some weird skin condition and hair-

 

_Holy shit._

 

"Holy shit."

 

Shepard's eyes widened in shock and she nearly leaped out of her seat to get a better look at the couple that she started to unabashedly track.

 

She was human, _definitely_ human. Long, flowing black hair, striking blue eyes and a slender form that even Shepard had to admit was gorgeous. She wore a simple leather flight jacket, jeans, boots and a black tank top, and stole glances at her turian companion about every two seconds.

 

The turian was about the same height as Garrus, as far as she could tell, with deep green eyes, but he wasn't nearly as muscular from the way his tunic hugged his body. His markings were dark red and completely different than the blue ones she had become so fond of.

 

They slowly made their way into the most intricate hotel in the hub, an outer shell tower with faintly glowing blue panels with an inner helix support structure that were connected by a series of symmetrical open air and closed walkways every few floors, and Shepard's feet started following them completely without her consent.

 

Thankfully, her instincts kicked in before she pounced on them, and she kept herself a healthy distance away from them so as not to arouse suspicion. This was a bad idea, and really creepy and shady and weird, but...what was the harm of just watching for a few minutes? It's not like she was going to get another chance before they hit the relay. At the very least, their interaction could give her some much needed insight.

 

The couple entered the hotel with a familiarity that can only be acquired from multiple visits, and all the while the woman was whispering something into the turian's ear canal. He responded by nipping her cheek, to which she giggled. Shepard took a few moments to feel terribly jealous while she craned her neck around the interior of the hotel.

 

The lobby was actually quite nice, with obsidian-marble composite walls and floors, and four 'frosted glass' (she was sure they were also reinforced to be support columns) elevator shafts surrounding the circular reception desk. It took Shepard a few moments to notice that the hotel actually had four symmetrical entrances, which she found oddly comforting.

 

For a moment, it looked as if the couple was going to disappear into one of the elevators, but the woman playfully tugged on the man's arm and gave him one of the most devilishly wicked grins she had ever seen. The turian laughed and issued a retort she couldn't hear, and just like that the woman's grin softened into a smile.

 

The pair changed course to a different elevator, the one Shepard was nearest to, and she quickly pressed the call button and made herself as inconspicuous as possible and tried to make it look like she simply didn't notice the two, as opposed to consciously avoiding their gaze.

 

"...well, they wouldn't have to clean the room so often if you didn't keep tearing up the sheets! Jesus, Alastor. I'm starting to think you _like_ causing property damage." The woman laughed musically, and the turian simply chuckled with a much deeper and calm rumble than Garrus's voice. Shepard couldn't help but blush at the implication and silently swore vengeance on every elevator in existence.

 

Again. As it turned out, coming back from the dead was prime recipe for deja vu.

 

"Mm. Jules, I seem to recall that you-" The woman, apparently Jules, quickly rested her palm on his mouth to stop him, and somehow made the expression surprisingly sweet. The turian, Alastor, didn't attempt to speak, but instead fluttered his mandibles. Jules broke into laughter before she pulling her hand away to wrap her arms around his neck.

 

"You're right. I did. And I loved every moment of it." She stared up at him for a moment as her smile became even softer. Her hands cradled his head and he dipped down toward her so that their foreheads touched.

 

It was probably the most intimate display of affection Shepard had ever seen, and she felt as though she was intruding on some sacred ground where only love struck couples were allowed to tread. The knot in her chest twisted itself in unholy, jealous and painful directions.

 

When the elevator finally arrived, she slipped into the lift right ahead of the couple, along with a few other guests that were waiting as well. Shepard leaned against the back wall, arms crossed over her chest and took a look at the floor selection display.

 

She mentally kicked herself for not selecting the bar before caging herself in the back of the compartment, but Alastor seemed to have read her mind and did it for her. After a few seconds, the doors slid open silently and the couple quickly stepped out of the elevator and proceeded to make their way to the bar. Shepard waited a few moments before pursuing them and arrives at the other side of the counter from their position. As they purchased drinks from the asari bartender nearest to them, Shepard ordered a shot of straight whiskey from the turian in charge of her section.

 

The bar itself had a domed interior, with a circular outdoor patio that stretched around the entire structure. There was an illuminated semi-transparent column of what appeared to be turian artwork in the center of the room. All of the light in the room seemed to flow both towards and from that singular point, and there were four actual bars in each of the establishment's 'corners'.

 

But this was all irrelevant to Shepard, as her focus was locked intensely on the turian and human couple that, by all accounts, looked like they were making it work.

 

After half an hour of subtle observation-

 

_Dammit. Anderson would_ not _be happy if he found out I was using special forces training to stalk couples._

 

-Shepard realized that they were behaving, at their core, like any other couple would. Which, of course, she should have already known. They laughed, they touched, they talked, and they just simply enjoyed each others company.

 

_Lucky bastards._

 

The knot in her chest wrung itself to a maddening degree as she mentally replace the two with herself and Garrus. She smiled as the image became clear as day in her mind's eye. They'd finish the day's work, whatever it may be, and she'd curl up against his broad barrel chest.

 

_"...Garrus, I hope they don't make us retire. Killing mercs and pirates is as natural as breathing."_

 

_"They will. One day, but not for awhile. There are still_ plenty _of bad guys who aren't dead yet."_

 

He'd make some snarky remark, and she'd punch him in the arm and laugh all the same.

 

_"Damn right. I've stopped breathing before. It wasn't fun."_

 

_"As if I could forget. Is this some human thing? Taking pride in one's own death?-*punch*-well, it's_

certainly _not pride for your hand-to-hand-*punch*-Alright, alright. You win, Shepard. Now what's so funny?"_

 

And then they'd make love.

 

_"...You are."_

 

_"Aha, is that right? Last time I checked-"_

 

_"Shut up and love me, Garrus."_

 

_"Would if you’d let me, Shepard.”_

 

_..._

 

_Goddammit._

 

It really wasn't all that different from what they did now, just with a few hundred roadblocks added in. She knew she wanted that with him, but she didn't have a damn clue how those two managed to pull it off.

 

Once again, Shepard's legs had to intervene and snap her out of her self-imposed emotional rut. Before she even realized what's she's doing, her drink was in her hand and she was already walking over to the couple. Part of her wants to stop, and another other part starts to beat that part of her to death with a third part of her.

 

_"Holy crap, I can't do this! Abort! Turn around!"_

 

_"Belay that!"_

 

_"No, belay_ that _! I'm calling Joker, and he can just blow a hole in the ceiling for the shuttle to come pick me up."_

 

_"You say one more goddamn word and I'll pummel you into the ground with little miss 'regret' over there!"_

 

_"You'll regret it."_

 

_"Shut up!"_

 

_"I'd like to see you try!"_

 

While she was distracted with her internal civil war, at some point her mouth had gotten the couple's attention of it's own volition, and their focus was now solely on her. And apparently she had sat down beside them, and half of her drink was gone.

 

_Goddamnit._

 

"I sincerely hope I misunderstood your question, human. The implication is less than pleasant, to say the least." The turian barely made any facial movement other than a tiny flutter of his mandibles. Shepard had gotten good at reading turian expressions, but this one purposely masked his intentions on some level, so it was difficult to tell what his demeanor was.

 

The woman furrowed her brow and bit her lower lip before wrapping her fingers into his taloned hand. "I think she means _us_ , Alastor." She smiled kindly at Shepard, whose brain finally informed her that she asked 'How did you two do it?'. If there was a more blunt and awkward way to ask about the inner workings of a relationship of complete strangers, she couldn't think of one.

 

"Yeah. Sorry, I could have phrased that better. It's just..." She stammered a bit. Her cheeks became flushed with red and her eyes darted everywhere but at them.

 

_Fantastic. Commander Shepard reduced to a stumbling teenager. What happened to the woman that could talk indoctrinated spectres into suicide, cave in a krogan's head with her bare hands and conquer death itself?_

 

"...I'm at the end of my proverbial rope, which is why I'm asking complete strangers for advice on human-turian relationships." She smiled sadly and knocked her knuckles next to her drink. Her stomach was starting to do back-flips, and her chest wasn't faring much better. "Look, I don't want to intrude any more than I already have. If you want me to leave, just say the word. But the fact that I tried this at all should tell you just how desperate I am."

 

The turian's harsh glare vanished after what appeared to be a moment of contemplation, and possibly empathy. He looked over at his companion, who couldn't have been smiling any wider at the thought, and then back to Shepard. "I'll admit, this is entirely unprecedented..." He purred- _they purr?!_ \- softly and dipped his head into the crook of her neck with a gentle nuzzle. The woman's eyes fluttered and she releases a contented sigh. "...but then again, so were a great many things not too long ago."

 

He returned to his previous position and drooped his mandibles in what Shepard instantly recognized as a turian smile. It was an expression that she identified so strongly with Garrus that, at first, it looked wrong on this other turian. "We'd be glad to impart any wisdom we may have learned, if only so that our species can finally get past all of these petty squabbles."

 

The woman extended her hand. "Jules Sinclair. This is unbelievably flattering. Consider yourself lucky you found us in Nos Astra. Anywhere else, and I'd be keeping my mouth shut. " She took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

 

_Commander Shepard getting advice from a human-turian couple? No chance in hell, Al-Jilani._

 

"Alison Gunn. Yeah, Illium doesn't really seem to care about what their people do. As long as you don't make them lose any money." Shepard made a mental note to shower Kasumi with gifts if this went well.

 

_They may not remember my face, but they damn well better remember my name._

 

The turian’s brow furrowed suspiciously, and his mandibles clamped down on his cheeks. After a few seconds of silence, Jules gave the turian's hand a tight squeeze and grunted in the hopes that she could remind him of his manners. The man slowly reached out with his taloned hand and firmly shook hers, although it was clear his talons could have stabbed through her palm if he had wanted them to. "Alastor Cyrillus. I apologize for the hesitation, Ms. Gunn. I wasn't aware you would be comfortable with shaking a turian's hand. Most humans are not."

 

_Jesus. The stick up this guy's ass must be bigger than a dreadnought._

 

Shepard nodded as she completely understood his trepidation. She bit her lower lip as she mulled over how to best approach this. Her mind was a blank, despite the flurry of questions that bounced around in her head. So she went with her gut, a reflex that only killed her once.

 

"Last thing I'm worried about is a few scratches here and there. I've had bigger scars than he could ever make, anyway." That facial reconstruction surgery was really starting to pay for itself.

 

The instant she finished her sentence, the woman issued a retort so quickly she was sure she had been waiting to bring it up since Shepard had sat down. "You'd be surprised. Turians can get a little rough."

 

That glorious wicked grin smeared itself across the woman's lips yet again. Alastor hummed in protest and narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, as if to reel her in from some path

Shepard couldn't quite see. She relented and her entire head blushed. The woman's eyes bore straight into the ceiling and her fingers absently wandered along her neck.

 

"I wouldn't have started _there_ in terms of advice, Jules, but I can't discount it's importance." He turned back to Shepard, his tone calm and reserved. "But we'll get to that in due time. Why don't you tell us about your prospective mate? Context would be helpful." The woman didn't seem at all fazed by that clinical word, but Shepard couldn't help but grimace at it.

 

"Fair enough." She centered her thoughts, and took deep breath. Shepard had never articulately vocalized exactly how she felt about Garrus, but goddammit she had wanted to do exactly that for weeks. "I've known this guy for a long time. He's funny, charming, the best at what he does, and he always does the right thing whether he knows it or not. He's a natural leader, and he's scary smart." A small smile spread itself along Shepard's lips.

 

_"I'm here if you need me."_

 

"He's my best friend. Hell, he's not just my best friend, but just about the only friend I've got left. He trusted me when no one else would. When everyone thought I was crazy, he was right there by my side."

 

_"Just like old times, Shepard."_

 

"Every step of the way. He's always had my back, I've always had his, and even if everything falls apart I'll _still_ have his back. And I'll know he'll still have mine."

 

The turian listened silently while the woman, who had been clearly working up to something, responded first. "He sounds like a very loyal man. Sounds a little like someone I know..."

She hummed happily and planted a kiss on his the turian's neck.

 

_Well, that's no help at all._

 

"If he's as loyal as you say he his, and you're just as devoted, all that's left is finding out if he feels the same way." She held out her hands in front of her and laughed wistfully. "And don't ask me the proper way to do that for a turian! Because I haven't got a goddamn clue."

 

Alastor shook his head and broke out into a loud laugh. "Actually, she does. Being as direct as possible is the most respectful and efficient way to approach him about this. If you truly want to be with him, tell him that. I haven't met many turians that...what did you say human courtship was centered around...?"

 

Jules scoffed and ran her fingers through her dark hair. "Games, Alastor. We're so terrified of letting another know how we truly feel that we surround ourselves with barriers and lies upon lies to protect ourselves from getting hurt." A gross generalization, of course, but Shepard wondered if the man's view of his own kind was slanted, or if it was her own that was skewed entirely.

 

_It’s probably both._

 

"Humans have so many ways of wasting time. It's astounding." he retorted, and his partner issued him a light slap on his arm while she stifled a laugh.

 

Shepard steeled her jaw and scratched the back of her ear as the couple naturally bantered back and forth. Up close, she plainly saw that the next few steps for her and Garrus were going to be completely physical, because apparently no one told her they were _already_ emotionally set, if these two were anything to go by.

 

"I actually already did that. But I think I screwed it up. He was talking about 'blowing off steam' with an old friend and I suggested that...uh...we could do that. I get the feeling that turians are more casual about sex than humans are, but...I want more than that with him. If that wasn't already painfully obvious." She scowled and nodded her head over to the counter to find that the bartender had refilled her dink. In one fluid motion, she downed the glass and slammed it

on the bar in preparation for her self-pity party.

 

Jules's blue eyes darted around the immediate area to search for any bold onlookers and obvious racists. She leaned in toward Shepard and spoke in a low whisper. "Alison, before I met Alastor...I had shitty luck with men. Really shitty. There was always so much bullshit to sift through, and more often than not there was someone on the side. Alastor has never bullshitted me.” The woman’s tiny fingers entwined themselves in the turian’s claws. “He's never lied to me and he's always made his intentions known. From what he's told me, the vast majority of his kind are just like that. So if you're worried about him just using you for a while and leaving...Don't. He won't start anything unless you're on the same page. And once you are..."

 

Her gaze shifts back and forth a few more times. "...it's important you figure out what works for the both at your own pace. Rushing is a _very_ bad idea. Think of it as losing your virginity all over again."

 

She screwed up her face when she realized how horrible of a metaphor that was. "No, wait not that. More like...your first time with a new lover." She hummed in remembrance before Alastor's louder tone broke her out of her reverie. "As the resident turian, I feel that I should inform you, Ms. Gunn, that Jules has my full endorsement in her expertise on this matter. "

 

"Oh, good. I was worried that the Hierarchy was going to revoke my 'turian fucking' license.", she responds with a devilish smirk, and the turian, much to Shepard's surprise, didn't laugh but instead fondly stroked his 'lips' against her cheek.

 

_Still not helping, dammit!_

 

"You know I wouldn't let them do that. So very few apply as it is..." She giggled, and immediately Shepard felt an overbearing desire for Garrus to make her do the same to prove that he could. Her chest warped in on itself and the knotted pain became more debilitating. "Alastor. Stop. I can't think straight when you do that. This woman came to us for help, so we're going to help her. So stop...for now." And just like that the turian receded back into his seat and rested his free arm against the counter. "As you wish."

 

Shepard smiled sheepishly and mentally prepared herself for what was no doubt going to be an onslaught of information. "I do have a few more...prudent questions, if you really think that finding out the big stuff on our own is important..."

 

_Like I'm in a position to argue. Although...finding out what turns him on is really hot. Wow, now I'm really glad I didn't just look up turian sex-ed pamphlets._

 

"...The extranet isn't helpful, all of the information is conflicting, and I think the doctor I was talking too may have been teasing me about it. He starting talking about deadly tissue ingestion...and uh..."

 

Shepard made a mental note, that list was really growing today, to confront Mordin about his cruel lies with, ironically, her M-6 if they turned out to be that at all. If not, she'd give him a hug for caring about her and then swear him to secrecy with said pistol to his head. Not that she was ashamed of her attraction, far from it, but she really didn't feel like having to explain herself to every major power in the galactic community.

 

That would get old very fast. Especially since she just _knew_ Udina would get in line twice.

 

The woman's expression dawned in understanding and she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "It can be. It almost was." She chuckled with mirth and tilted her head back in a nostalgic sigh. "There is medication you can take to prevent anaphylaxis, but there are a bunch of different kinds, and they're all designed for asari." She scratches her forehead and frowns. "Took me a little while to figure out which one worked for my system, so until then you're going to want to keep some antihistamine injections around."

 

The turian interjects before the conversation steers into a different direction. "Any oral contact is enough to set off a reaction, a fact that we were dangerously unaware of at first."

 

Shepard's face visibly brightened at that, and her mouth, again, acted completely independently of her brain in order to gain any forward momentum. "Do you two kiss? I mean, can turians do that? Their lips don't look too flexible, and they're really stiff and plated and goddammit I just want to-"

 

Before Shepard can stammer any longer, Jules wrapped her arms around Alastor's neck and snapped his head into a fierce kiss, her lips tucked into his just enough for Shepard to see the subtle movements of their tongues being danced together. The woman pulled back and glided her hands along his mandibles, their eyes locked in a passionate embrace for a few moments. "It took some practice...but yes, we can. They do something a little different...but that's something else that would be better to find out on your own."

 

Shepard gaped at the couple for a few seconds before she set her jaw back in place. She smiled as wide as she possibly could and graciously shook each of their hands. "Thank you. Thank you so much. That right there..." She took a ragged breath as her chest began to swell with joy and wiped a few brewing tears from her eyes. "...that's all I needed." She rose up out of her seat and walked back toward the elevator. "Stay safe and...good luck."

 

And with that, Shepard was gone, having vanished from the bar as the elevator descended.

 

Alastor narrowed his eyes at the now vacant seat beside him and gave a soft groan of frustration. "...so I suppose she _assumed_ we were paying for her drinks, then? Wonderful." He fished into his pockets and slipped a credit chit onto the counter with a very bemused expression.

 

Jules just stared blankly at the empty chair and then began to rub her temples with a dry chuckle. "Next time someone asks for advice, we’ll make them pay for the drinks.”

 

The turian simply gazed at his companion stoically for a few moments. "Jules, Commander Shepard is fully entitled to drinks at our expense." He allowed his comment to float in the dead air while Jules processed what exactly had just happened to her. Her eyes widened in shock at the implication of giving _her_ , of all people, all of that information. She rested her head against his broad chest and sighed wearily.

 

"Fuck me."

 

"In due time."

 

She laughed.

 

-/o\\-

 

The main battery was a mess. For all of the credits they had dumped into the economy of Nos Astra, one would think that their upgrades would come with free installation. This was not the case, as the dozens upon dozens of crates necessary to build a 'Thanix Magnetohydrodynamic Cannon' were now stuffed into the battery, and Garrus wasn't looking forward to sharing his bunk with a few hundred pounds of molten metal for the next few days. He loaded up the technical manual on the weapon on the main terminal and perused the instructions. Nothing he couldn't handle, but it was definitely going to take some time.

 

He heard Shepard's swift foot falls from the hallway behind him, noting that they were faster than normal, and turned around to see the doors slide open and the woman in mid-leap toward him.

 

"Shepard, need me for somethi—Spirits!"

 

Instinctively, he caught her in his arms - _yes!-_ and her sheer force pushed him against the terminal. Before he can react, she hooked her legs around his waist and crushed her lips against his leathery plated mouth in a hungry kiss. And just for a moment, she saw through space and time and mentally pumped her fist.

 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and slowly pulled back, letting her lips linger for just a moment longer on his. "...yeah, I do Garrus. Just...this for now."

 

She languidly unclasped her ankles and lowered herself onto the floor. As she stared up into his pale blue eyes, her palms found comfort in his breast plate.

 

"Needed to be sure this could work." She smiled from ear to ear. "It can."

 

It took Garrus a few moments to realize that his jaw was still slacked from the shock of Shepard pouncing him, and promptly corrected that mistake. He swallowed and gave her that nervous chuckle she just couldn't help finding impossibly adorable. "Not that I’m not overjoyed to hear that Shepard, but...uh...it looks like you’re happy to see me."

 

Shepard giggled- _Yes, yes! -_ and brushed her hands across his mandibles. She took extra care not to apply too much pressure to the bandaged one. “What was your first clue, big guy?”

 

He purred - _I could listen to that forever_ \- and looked straight down at her thighs. “Damn, I don’t think I told that joke right. It’s a human one that Joker taught me. You’re supposed to say it when you see that someone has a...uh...’bulge’...”

 

Shepard stared at him incredulously for a few moments before it dawned on her and she erupted into laughter. “Garrus...no, that’s not---no, that’s only for _men._ ” She nonchalantly reached down into her pants and retrieved her already expanding M-6. “Although I _am_ packing quite a big gun.”

 

He laughed and wrapped his talons around her waist. She shivered at first, the sensation of his talons on her skin very unfamiliar. But not unwelcome, and it only took a moment before they felt wonderful and secure. “Well then, I am _very_ happy to see you, Shepard.”

 

Shepard bit her lip and smiled. She didn’t have the heart to tell him exactly what he just said. “And come on. An M-6? That thing can’t even stop a charging krogan. I can name a _much_ better gun.”

 

She snorted and shoved the pistol back into her concealed holster. “Tell you what, Garrus. Finish building this thing in here...” She glided her hands around his collar with a sense of wonder. “...and then you can take my gun, and show me _exactly_ what I should use in it’s stead.” She grinned wickedly and flared her nostrils.

 

“Looking forward to it.” He dropped his hands from her waist and leaned back against the console. His mandibles dropped into a turian smile. “Might be awhile, though. Sure you can wait?”

 

She pushed off of his chest, pivoted on her heel, and sauntered out of the battery with a spring in her step. "I’m a patient woman, Garrus. But even I have my limits. I'll let you get back to work. Come find me when your shift ends. We’ve got some things to figure out..." She looked over her shoulder and immediately felt her face, among other things, flush as he caught her gaze. "...and there's a lot to figure out. So hurry it up, big guy."

 

She delved into her pockets and tossed him a packaged hypodermic injection with a blue label. Garrus caught it and read the label. ‘Emergency Anaphlyaxis Neutralizer. For Dextro-use Only!’

 

“Something tells me you didn’t buy just one of these.” His brow plates shifted upward as he recalled his old training courses on treating anaphylactic shock. It was not a fond memory.

 

“You start to feel sick, use that. I can’t have you dying on me before our big night, now can I?”

She winked at him. “Word of advice. It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” The door slid shut.

 

Garrus twitched his mandibles and stared at the now closed doorway. “...Right. Because I’m in a great place to assemble a magnetohydrodynamic cannon right now.”

 

-/o\\-

 

As Shepard marched across the crew deck and rode the elevator up to her cabin, the plethora of knots in her chest finally unfolded themselves in sweet release.

 

Her mind was clear and sharp.

 

Commander Shepard was fully focused on the mission.

 

No more hold-ups. No more unfinished business. No more regrets.

 

The Collectors were going to know fear. They were abducting _humans._ Her people.

 

She folded her arms behind her back, and her body erupted in a stable, brilliant blue glow.

 

The ones she swore, Cerberus be damned, to protect from anyone and anything that lurked in the deep black of space. She took an oath to shield them, to guide them through the darkness and the evils that thought themselves their better. To uphold the honor and integrity of the Systems Alliance, in the name of Earth and all her colonies.

 

The Collectors tried breaking her, obliterating her, but they had only slowed her down. They were mere puppets, manipulated by a web of ancient lies. Cut the tethers that bind them, and they will be nothing more than hollowed husks. Aimless and useless without their leaders.

 

Utterly destroyed.

 

The Omega-4 Relay was the final insurmountable barrier between her and the source of their monstrous bondage to the demons beyond the galaxy’s terminus.

 

Their home, their temple to the Reapers.

 

The odds were against her, so she was going to do what she did best.

 

Turn the tables.

 

Shepard was focused, and she grinned violently.

 

_Knock, knock Harbinger._

 

-/o\\-

 

**Author's Note:**

> See how it all came together in the end like that? I love stories that do that. It's a very 'Larry David' or 'Seinfeldian' style of writing.
> 
> Was it dumb? Did you hate it? Was it the best thing ever? (Pbbbth, yeah right.) Let me know in a comment! :D


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